The Wrong Game

by Steiner, Kandi

  “Fuck,” he breathed, pain etched in the crease of his brows. “I don’t want to hurt you, but God, I don’t know how to take this easy right now.”

  The tip of him slid between my lips, and just another flex of his hips would have him inside me. We both inhaled stiff breaths, and I swallowed, running my hands back through his hair.

  “Let me,” I whispered, clearing my throat when the words didn’t come out strong. Zach cracked his eyes open, searching mine. “Sit down. Let me.”

  My voice was still soft, quiet, unsure, and Zach smirked, running the tip of his nose over the bridge of mine before he kissed it. “Let you what?”

  I flushed.

  “Say it, Gemma,” he husked. “Let you what?”

  I rolled my lips together, hands fisting in his hair as he flexed his hips a little more. The tip of him pushed inside me, and my eyes fluttered shut, both of us moaning in sync.

  “Let me ride you.”

  Zach growled, the cold glass off my back in the next instant as he carried me across the room. He sat on the couch, leaning back and pulling me into him as I situated myself, straddling him, hands pressed against his hard, slick chest.

  He kissed me softer, longer, hands resting on my hips as he let me take control. And though I was shaking, I took only one, deep breath before I lined him up at my entrance and slowly, carefully, lowered myself down.

  I clamped a hand over my mouth, moaning into the skin and squeezing my eyes shut at the feel of him as Zach let out a long, heated groan. I’d only worked him in a little, and when I pulled up again only to sit right back down, taking him in a little deeper, he cursed.

  “You feel…” He shook his head, grappling. “Incredible. Unreal.”

  I shook, nails digging into his shoulders as I lifted again, this time lowering until he was all the way inside me. For a moment, we just sat like that, breathing, feeling, his throbbing cock stretching me open.

  Then, I started to move.

  My thighs burned as I rocked, up and down, forward and back, rubbing my clit against his lower abs every time I touched down. A wave of panic threatened to surge as I realized it was the first time I’d had a man inside me since Carlo, but it receded as soon as it’d come, Zach’s hands fastened on my hips bringing me back to the current moment.

  I was okay. I was safe. I was in control, and so was Zach.

  And as scary as it was, in that moment, I trusted him.

  My toes tingled as blood started rushing faster toward my center, and Zach pulled my mouth to his, hands tight in my hair as he kissed me hard. I rode him faster, wilder, nails digging, thighs slapping. And when I was close, I broke our kiss, leaning back to balance with my hands on his knees.

  He shook his head, eyes taking in the new view of me tilted back. He ran his hands over my stomach, up to frame my breasts as they bounced. And when he rolled his fingers over my nipples, I let my head fall back, a gasping moan slipping from my lips.

  “Oh, God, Zach,” I breathed, riding him harder.

  “Yes,” he rasped, tugging each nipple. “Do it. Come for me.”

  I bounced more, and behind me, the announcer grew louder as the crowd screamed.

  He makes the catch! And he’s going, going, that’s the thirty…

  He paused, the crowd still roaring as I rode faster, faster.

  The twenty… The ten…

  “Oh, fuck,” I cried, eyes squeezing shut. Fire burned through me, slow and warm at first before it was an all-out inferno, searing every inch of me as my orgasm caught and took me under.

  Touchdown!

  “Yes!” I cried, rocking my hips more. Zach reached down to rub my clit, lengthening my orgasm as I shook and throbbed around him. “Yes, yes, God, yes.”

  Zach groaned, and the hand that was working my clit moved to my breast. He squeezed it tight, his other hand on my hip, and he started to move with me, taking control as my orgasm slowed. His hips moved faster, meeting mine from beneath, and then he winced, mouth falling open as his entire body stiffened and shuddered.

  Something between a growl and a moan ripped from his throat, his own release pulsing hot and thick inside me. Even through the condom I felt each ripple, and I moaned at the feel of him reaching the same ecstasy I’d just had, of knowing I was the reason he was there.

  He thrust inside me once more, this time holding me still, his cock throbbing inside me as he expelled the last of his release. And then, like a whistle had just blown, like the game had been called, we both collapsed into each other, arms wrapping, hands shaking, breaths loud and heavy and exhausted.

  We sighed, we smiled, and then Zach rolled until he was lying down with me resting on his chest.

  “Goddamn, little girl,” he said, whistling.

  I just giggled, burying my face in his slick chest as he wrapped me into him tighter.

  He laughed a little, too, shaking his head as his breaths settled. His hand wove in to my hair, rubbing the scalp before gently running through the strands. “So much for being nervous,” he said, peering down at me.

  I flushed, burying my face in his chest more and wrapping my arms around his waist. “I’m still nervous,” I argued. “And it’s already over.”

  Zach chuckled. “Well, round one is over, anyway.”

  I swallowed, stiffening in his arms, which earned me another haughty laugh.

  “Can I at least have like, ten minutes?” I asked. “And maybe some water. And a PB and J.”

  “Only if you make me one.”

  “Deal,” I said, popping up to peck my lips to his.

  But he held me there, wrapping his arms around me tighter and lengthening that kiss until I was melting into him. He kissed my nose once he finally released his grip, smacking my ass when I hopped up from the couch.

  “I have grape jelly,” I said, stealing his long-sleeve shirt off the floor and pulling it over my head. I flipped my hair out of the neck hole when the shirt was on, pointing at him. “Obviously. And if you like any other kind of jelly on your PB and J, you’re wrong.”

  He scoffed. “Please, like I’d be some sort of monster and ask for strawberry.”

  Smiling, I skipped past him into the kitchen, pulling out two plates and the ingredients I’d need. But before I could twist open the cap on the peanut butter, Zach was there behind me, wrapping me in his arms.

  He rested his chin on my shoulder, squeezing me tighter, and I gave in, dropping the peanut butter and lacing my hands over where his rested on my stomach.

  “What are you thinking about?” I asked him, leaning back against him.

  “You actually think I can form thoughts right now?”

  I smiled. “Well, you came over here and wrapped me up in your arms,” I pointed out. “I just didn’t know if you were getting all soft on me again.”

  “Nah, not yet,” he said, but then he turned toward me, shifting me in his arms so he could look in my eyes. “I do have one, serious question though.”

  I swallowed, searching his gaze as my chest tightened. I didn’t know what he wanted to ask, but something told me that whatever his question was, I wouldn’t be ready to answer it, yet.

  “Okay,” I said, voice barely a whisper.

  Zach’s eyes flicked between mine, his thumb brushing the side of my cheek. “I have to know…” He swallowed, like the words were hard for him to say, and I felt my chest tighten more. “Did you orgasm because of me, or because of the touchdown?”

  A smile split his face and I blinked, laughing and shoving him off me. He laughed, too, swinging back in to wrap me in his arms as I grabbed the knife for the peanut butter.

  “Come on,” he begged. “You gotta tell me.”

  I just shook my head, running a finger through the peanut butter and sucking it off with his eyes on my mouth. Then, I smiled, and tapped his nose with that still-wet finger.

  “That’s for me to know, and you to forever wonder.”

  “Oh,” he growled, catching my wrist in his hand and pulling me into hi
m. “I think I know a way to find out for sure.”

  Zach

  We managed to make it through two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and the rest of the game before I pulled Gemma back into her bedroom for round two. After all, the Bears had pulled out another win. We couldn’t not celebrate.

  And though I would have sworn it wasn’t possible, she was somehow even better the second time, like my body hadn’t been able to fully process how amazing she felt the first time around. In her bed, I’d taken my time, working slowly between her thighs and savoring every touch, every kiss, every moan.

  I couldn’t believe I was there.

  I couldn’t believe she was in my arms.

  I couldn’t fucking believe Belle’s plan had worked.

  It’d seemed so absurd, and I hated playing the games — but Belle was right. Gemma had feelings for me, but she was so damn stubborn she didn’t want to admit it. Not until she saw me there with Belle, until she saw she had possibly lost me, did she wake up and admit it to herself.

  In a way, it was juvenile. But in a way, I didn’t care how it happened, how she came to her realization, how she changed her mind and stomped down those stairs and over to my seat with determination etched on her adorable face.

  All that mattered was instead of kicking me out tonight, she let me stay. She took me to her bed, and she crawled into my arms, and though I knew it scared the shit out of her, she let go of her plan and held onto me, instead.

  I could work with that.

  She was quiet as we listened to the city still buzzing outside her window, the lights twinkling in through the windows. I played with her hair where it spilled over my chest, feeling the unsteady beats of her heart where it pressed against my waist.

  “Family,” I finally said, my voice a little gruff.

  “Huh?”

  I cleared my throat, adjusting my hold on her. “One of the other things I’m a total softie about,” I clarified. “Family.”

  I felt her lips curl into a smile against my chest, and she shifted, rolling until her hands were on my chest, chin resting on top of them as she watched me. “Like your family? Or just families in general?”

  I thought about it. “You know, before I would have said mine. But I think it’s just in general.”

  “Explain.”

  I sighed, still playing with her hair as I stared up at her ceiling, searching for the right words. “When I was growing up, my family was everything. It was just me and my parents for the first fourteen years, and they were like…” I laughed, shaking my head. “I don’t know, they weren’t like parents as much as they were like my best friends. Dad helped me with football, when he wasn’t deployed or working at the different bases we’d been stationed at when I was younger, and he really challenged me. But, he also listened when I was going through something. Mom was always on me about school, but she was also the first person I wanted to run to when I had girl problems.”

  “Girl problems, huh?” Gemma teased. “Bet you were such a little heartbreaker in high school.”

  “More like I was the one getting my heart broken,” I argued. “I wanted a girlfriend so bad, but apparently I was too much for girls that age.”

  “Ah, you were the nice guy. No one wants to date the nice guy.”

  “So I learned,” I grumbled. “Trust me, I learned how to not be so… forward about my feelings. And once I did, I couldn’t keep the girls off me. That’s how I landed my first real girlfriend, my longest relationship. It was like as soon as I started ignoring her instead of pursuing her, she wanted me.”

  “Girls are really the most furious creatures.”

  “Tell me about it,” I said, tickling her side. Gemma swatted my hand away, smiling as I continued. “But yeah, she was my first real relationship. We dated all senior year and into my freshman year of college.”

  It had been over a decade since that relationship ended, and yet still, the scars from that girl remained. That was how powerful love was. It could save you, could help you live for the first time, see the world in a new way — but it could also knock you to the ground, the force so blunt you never forget the way it felt to fall.

  Failed love built walls, but it was our choice whether we decided to hide behind them, or sit on top of them, waiting for someone to come along who could knock them down.

  I was the latter, but something told me Gemma was the first.

  “Anyway,” I said after a long pause. “Family was just always really important to me. And once my brother was born, when I was fourteen, it was even more so. I never knew how badly I wanted to be an older brother until I was one.”

  Gemma smiled, leaning up more. “I think that’s sweet. He’s so much younger than you.”

  “He is. He’s a great kid, though,” I said, throat tightening. “He’s had a rough life, but he’s always so positive. He inspires me.”

  “Yeah?” she asked, her finger drawing circles on my chest. “What did he think of your girlfriend, the one you dated for a long time?”

  “Smooth segue,” I said, smirking.

  She blushed. “What? You brought her up.”

  “Yeah, and also brought the conversation back around to family.”

  “Well, now I’m bringing the conversation back around to her.”

  I laughed, but then shrugged, twirling a strand of Gemma’s hair around my fingers. “There’s not much to say. We were serious, at least, I thought we were. I wanted to marry her.” I swallowed. “But, when my football career ended, so did our relationship. Turns out she was more interested in the money I was on track to come into when I went pro than she was in me.” I scratched my neck. “But, in my defense, she was a great actress. I thought she loved me.”

  Admitting that out loud stung, and I grimaced a little at the twinge in my chest. Even as young as I was — a senior in high school, a rookie in college — all my coaches saw the pro potential. That was all Emily, my ex, held onto. It was all she pushed me toward. And when I explained to her that Micah was more important, that I wanted to spend my time with him and not with football?

  She was gone.

  And my family was everything.

  “That’s awful,” Gemma whispered. “I’m so sorry. But, why did your football career end?” She ran her fingertips over my chest. “Did you… were you hurt or something?”

  I grabbed her fingers, lifting them to my lips to press a kiss to the tips of them. “That’s another conversation for another time,” I told her, not ready to go there yet. “It’s your turn.”

  “My turn?”

  “Tell me something.”

  “Wait,” Gemma protested. “You can’t just leave me on that. I mean, what happened after? You just what… lost her and football at the same time?”

  I nodded. “Yep. That’s exactly what happened.”

  Gemma softened, her entire body melting into mine. “That had to be so hard.”

  I shrugged again, suddenly aware of how deep I’d taken the conversation without meaning to. I’d just wanted to open up a little about my family, and suddenly I’d stepped into a realm I didn’t know how to explore further. “Shit happens,” I finally said. “I learned my lesson, haven’t really dated much since. Nothing long-term and substantial, anyway.”

  Gemma nodded, resting her chin on her hands again. “I get that.”

  “I know you do,” I said. “But I still don’t know why.”

  She blew out a long breath. “I don’t… Zach, I’m not ready to talk about that. Not yet.”

  My chest squeezed, not because I was hurt she didn’t want to share with me, but because I knew that look on her face — the one that comes only from being betrayed in the worst way. I didn’t know what happened, but I knew without her saying another word that whatever it was, whoever it was — they’d changed her. Permanently.

  I knew, because my ex had done the same to me.

  “It’s okay,” I assured her, rubbing her lower back. “How about something easier.”

  Sh
e scrunched her nose, then snapped her fingers. “I’m afraid of heights.”

  “Lame.”

  “Hey, don’t make fun.”

  “I’m not,” I said. “I’m saying that’s a lame thing to share. Although, good to know, we’ll have to get you over that eventually.”

  Gemma laughed. “Don’t even try. Trust me, I’ve wanted to conquer that fear so many times, but every time I attempt to, I chicken out.”

  “Doesn’t mean you always will,” I pointed out. “If you want to face it, to overcome it, you can. With the right circumstances.” I paused. “And the right people supporting you.”

  She smiled, leaning her cheek on my chest as she watched me.

  “But for now,” I continued. “I want something more. Come on.” I poked her side. “Give me the goods. I just confessed my first heartbreak to you.”

  She sighed, rolling off my chest to lie next to me as her eyes found the ceiling. “Okay,” she said, drawing the word out. “You know how you said you’re big into family?”

  I nodded.

  “Well, I don’t really know what a family is supposed to feel like,” she said. “Not really, anyway. My parents always traveled, and I was an only child. I spent most of my time with my grandpa, who was amazing, but… I don’t know. He felt more like a teacher than a family member sometimes.”

  She paused, and I let the quiet stretch between us. My heart ached for her, for what it must have felt like to grow up without the same family atmosphere I’d had. I knew there were plenty of kids who weren’t as fortunate, but to hear it first-hand was tough.

  “Why were your parents always gone?”

  Gemma shifted. “So, my mom and dad are kind of like the modern-day Romeo and Juliet. Their families hated each other, all the odds were against them, but they somehow made their love work. They bought a house, had me, all the American dream things. And then, they wrote a book about it. And it was a bestseller in the first two weeks.”

  “Whoa.”

  “I know. They wrote another one about a year later, and the more they wrote, the more people wanted. They covered everything in their books — putting love first, trusting each other, communicating.” She laughed, shaking her head. “Parenting — although, that was a joke to me. They could teach it, but didn’t really know how to put their own teachings into practice.”